Submarine Screendoor Sales

Did I ever mention that I finally bought an ipod? I did, because someone gave it to me for practically nothing a few days after they bought it brand new. Which reminds me of something that happened at work:

Slosh: "Hey! Be careful. You could have broken my leg. You owe me $20 for that."

Geo-cacher: "I'm not giving you any money. You need to stay out of the way."

Me: "Wow. He'll let you break his legs for $20 a pop."

Geo-cacher: "That's too much money."

King Cub: "If Emmett says that it's a good deal then you should listen. He's always getting awesome deals on stuff."

Me: "At these prices, you can't afford NOT to break his legs."

Anyway. I bought an ipod and I've already decided I need a bigger one. But I'll use this one for awhile. I've recently been introduced to the world of podcasts. That kid I hang out with... the one who is writing a novel about aliens that kill everybody... he told me about a podcast for writers about writing.

You already know that I wish I had more time to write, so I've been trying to prep my head by listening to a bunch of these shows. And I can listen to them while I move furniture so I've listened to quite a few already.

While I have learned a thing or two about the business side of writing that I did not know before, I have also decided that these shows kind of bother me. Much as I have been accused of in the past, these shows seem to over-analyze everything. They take something beautiful, like writing, and take it apart and study it until it is mundane. They kill the dragon to see where the fire comes from.

When the host of this show interviews other writers, she puts them on a pedestal and the writers seem to eat it up. It's annoying. Let's do a pretend interview with ME as the subject to serve as an example, except we'll talk about humor instead of writing:

Host: "Hello, Emmett. Thank you for being here. You are so funny and it's an honor."

Me: "Thank you. Yes. It's fabulous being funny. Humor is at the center of my life."

Host: "Yes. And you ARE hilarious. One of my favorite jokes of yours is that one about the Pollocks."

Me: "Ha, ha. The Pollocks. What can I say? I was really in the zone that day."

Host: "So I'll just come right out and ask... How do you do it?"

Me: "Well, if you want to make a good Pollock joke the most crucial thing to understand is that PEOPLE FROM POLAND... are stupid. And that is the idea that needs to shape your joke. You tell a story and at the end... you sucker-punch people with the fact that these people are dumb."

Host: "Wow. You make it sound so simple. Maybe it is for you, but normal people can't do that. Thank you to my guest who once made a joke about pollocks."


Oops. I would write more but I'm going to be late for work. Sorry.

My Friends Say I Should Act My Age... What's My Age Again?

I went to pick my son up from school today. As I approached the building on foot I had to pass by a big group of middle school kids who were lying on the grass.

Middle School Boy: "Hey! Do you have any money?"

Me: "Yup. I've got a whole bunch."

Middle School Boy: "Give me some."

Me: "I don't carry cash with me."

Middle School Girl: "Don't ask him for money. Leave him alone." And then she turned to the rest of the group, "Does he go to our middle school?"

Another Middle School Girl, seeming to understand her words only as they came out of her mouth: "That... is a GROWN UP!"

Gasps of shock and amazement. Then silence.

I could totally get a date for prom. And a few years as a convicted pedophile.

Finally a Chance to Breathe, Reaching for the Fallen Sheets

Me: "So when is your baby due?"

Str8 Edge Kid: "Anytime, but the due date isn't until the second week of June."

Me: "You didn't schedule a day? It seems like all the doctors like to schedule a day to induce people."

Str8 Edge Kid: "My wife doesn't want to be induced. She wants to do everything natural."

Me: "You could have the doctor strip her membrane. That doesn't involve any drugs."

Str8 Edge Kid: "Whatever that is, it sounds disgusting."

Me: "Everything about having kids is disgusting."

Str8 Edge Kid: "Yeah, everything except conceiving them."

Me: "Nope. That's disgusting too. Especially in your case."

Str8 Edge Kid: "..."

Me: "Did I just scar you for life?"

Str8 Edge Kid: "I think so. My wife is going to wonder why I never want to take my shirt off or do it with the lights on anymore."

How to Unnerve a Young Mother and Probably Get a Little Girl Grounded

We were at one of my daughter's T-ball games last week. At the end of the game the teams did their final cheer for eachother and got some snacks.

I took the opportunity to talk to one of the T-ball moms.

Me: "Hey, is that little blond girl on the playground, who looks just like you, your daughter?"

Mom: "Probably."

Me: "She cracks me up! She calls me Indian. Like, Hey Indian! and Hi Indian!"

Mom: "...I'm...sorry..."

She looked at me like maybe I was making the whole thing up. But I wasn't.

Me: "No. Don't be sorry. I like her."

Mom: "Why does she... How did she...?"

Reading her mind, I answered: "She asked me if I was from China."

Mom: "China, huh?"

And I decided not to spring the complete conversation between the eight year old and myself on the mom, which was actually more like this:

Girl: "Are you from China?"

Me: "No."

Girl: "Are you a mom or a dad?"

Me: "What do YOU think?"

Girl: "A dad."

Me: "Why did you ask?"

Girl: "You have long hair. I never see dads with long hair."

Me: "Lots of Indians like to have long hair. I have short hair for an Indian."

Girl: "You're an Indian!" But then she quickly became suspicious of me "...Where is your bow and arrow?"

Me: "Are you kidding? The police shoot people like me if we walk around carrying weapons."

But the little girl and I get along famously and seem to have an understanding of eachother. I don't think mom would understand. So I didn't tell mom about that.

Then my wife says to me: "Tell her that funny thing that her daughter said..."

Me: "Your daughter came up to me with her hand in the air and said How.... z'it goin'? It was funny. She cracks me up. Welp, see ya later."

And the mom was just kind of standing there the whole time with her mouth frozen in place because she didn't know what to say. As we walked away, I leaned into my wife and said, "I probably just totally got that little girl in trouble. Oops."

I guess I meant to say, "I dig your daughter's edgy comedy stylings."

That Smiles Back

I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but my kids are amazingly cute. They look cute. They have wild personalities. They are fun to be around. If the speed of light is the highest possible level of cuteness then these kids are dangerously close to it and the only way to smash through that barrier would be for them to do cute dances like the Roger Rabbit:



With that in mind, I was standing in the kitchen and I started doing a little of the Roger Rabbit and my wife walked in and said, "You look like a huge dork!"

And I said, "You're just jealous cuz you can't dance."

And she said, "UUUuuuuughhhhh! WHAT Did you just BREATHE into my mouth?"

I said, "Cheddar Cheese FLAVOR BLASTED Goldfish crackerssssssaaaahhhhhhhh."

If there is a maximum limit to love, it cannot be attained while eating flavor blasted goldfish crackers. I know this to be true.

Don't Try To See Yourself The Way That Others Do, It's No Use

There is a large circle of cartoonists and artists who blog that I like to watch. They recently did a meme where they drew a rendition of themselves as teenagers (some with a comparison drawing of themselves as they are today. If you have tons and tons of time to waste, check it out. I thought it was cool.

Bottles and Cans, Just Clap Your Hands

Recycled stuff from better blogs--- made me laugh.



It actually looks better than a lot of the films coming out this summer.

And if the mist ever lets the sun through, I'll hope I did the right thing

If I had an explanation for not writing I would have told you about it. I actually started this blog for purely selfish reasons and mostly to help maintain my sanity as I sat in a cubical. But it didn't work and I quit that job. And writing the blog doesn't increase the value of my home nor does it make my transmission run smoother. So what the french, toast?

Lately, I've been doing things like painting the outside of my house and having my transmission replaced (Honda was nice enough to do it for free). I decapitated a bunch of dandilions. I set up a see-saw for the kids. I even went hiking. And it was a good hike because I discovered a small man-made reservoir within half-an-hour of my house where I can teach my son to fly fish. I hiked through snow in the hot sun and my feet are tan with winter skin build-up flaking off my toe knuckles. And skin flaking off toe knuckles can only be described as awe and then some. I also gave my boss a bloody nose the other night by way of my elbow. It's hard to stay inside and blog. Maybe it's time to get a new laptop.

Nerds are going to think I'm lame, because the other day, instead of blogging, I watched Princess Mononoke for the first time and it blew me away.

And I will admit that I've had some funny conversations and zingers that I didn't bother to remember with a mental note of "that needs to go on the blog." I'll try to get into the habit again.